Shoot to Kill
by AnnaEtPhantom
Summary: What happens when a innocent man such as Alfred F. Jones is sent to his murderous uncle in England and is compelled to work for him as an assassin? Against his own will? Will he be able to finish out the job or deny his uncle with Arthur's life on the line?
1. Chapter I

**Chapter I~ Bad Weather**

**_Disclaimer~ Sadly, I don't own Hetalia. *sniffles*_**

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The day was young and the sun concealed itself with a storm of grey clouds. Just waiting for the right time to drizzle their raindrops around the city. Alfred didn't notice the coming of a terrible storm, but that didn't really matter at the time. He didn't even bother bringing an umbrella anyway. The grey ambiance definitely spelled out the words: bad weather. Honestly, the youngster really should've googled the weather before deciding to arrive to London today.

Finally.

Finally, had Alfred reached England.

It was no easy feat at all. It had taken all his willpower to convince his uncle to allow him to travel to Europe. That which included begging and Alfred..Alfred hated begging as much as he hated eating his veggies. He would have rather just tasered his uncle, "borrow" his wallet and passport, and before you'd know it he would have been here months ago.

What?

He bore a shocking resemblance to his uncle, just add a mustache! So, using his passport would be no problem. Perhaps he should have borrowed the moustache from Lovino. Unfortunately, Lovino guarded his moustache as tightly as he guarded his sexy Spaniard around women.

Figures, kid needs help.

Alfred departed his plane hours ago, and now still had no idea what to do in this grand city here. It was loud, over-crowded, fascinated, rushing, fast-paced, basically if you blink you missed everything. And damn, everything was expensive! His uncle had warned him of this before he arrived to England. It might have even been more busier than New York City. Alfred even started to feel a little homesick. Every time, he'd attempt to speak to an individual, he'd become tongue-tied due to their accent. That accent that made them sound so sophisticated and posh and made him sound like an idiot who can't even make a decent cup of tea.

Can't blame him, unless it was Snapple peach iced tea, he didn't like it. He sighed, it was unusual for him to be the shy type. Especially around others. But everyone around him seemed too busy to give him the time of day.

How was he supposed to find his uncle in the midst of London?

He vaguely remembered his uncle mentioned he owned a vast company. He also vaguely remembered him encouraging him to join him in his business. Hah! Alfred didn't even remotely like business in financing. Or... at least he guessed it that his business dealt with that sort of stuff. He never asked, and his uncle was particularly quiet hush-hush on the subject. Nevertheless, it seemed like a tedious job offer, which is why he settled being a bodyguard for the president after finishing his college courses. And he wasn't bad at his job, no, not at all. In fact, he was the strongest, most athletic of them all. Alfred didn't want to brag but... he goes to the gym daily and lifts weights and...stuff...

Okay. Okay. Blushing fest over now!

Some of you may be wondering as to why he'd quit a job like that. If I told you the reason why he gave up on the magnificent job, you'd probably be barfing rainbows now.

It was boring.

Originally, he had thought it was an interesting job, since you know, there were plenty of assassinations back then. But no, just some pushy people and cameramen now. Oh joy...

So, he quit and decided to move to London with his Uncle since New York isn't really anything like Gotham City. He... didn't like staying in one place too long. It didn't suit him, and neither did London. His uncle told him to stay at the airport and they'll meet up there at 3 pm. Unfortunately, at about 2:30 pm, Alfred wanted an ice cream so, he left his position for a while... Okay more than a while.

Did it really matter?

Alfred was sure his uncle would search day and night for him. All he had to do was find the idiot American wearing a Yankees Baseball cap and eating two hamburgers at a time. But would he find Alfred before the freak rainstorm?

Uh...I don't think so, no.

Alfred had been known to be quite childish and hyper. That was probably the over-caffeinated sugary soda talking though. Only a select few knew of Alfred's true self behind his obnoxious behavior. Take Matthew for example; As quiet and polite he was, he was also an expert at eavesdropping, observing, and inferring. The guy could make an excellent detective someday if he tried. He noticed most of Alfred's quirks and ideals. And realized Alfred had a crappy childhood. Maybe that's why he tried to make up for it in his adult years. He still acting like he was a pre-teen when he's already finished high school and college. Can't blame him though. He was raised by the slave driver he called an uncle. His uncle used to make Alfred workout from dusk-till-dawn. And even taught him out to shoot a bulls-eye with a gun handy. Alfred never questioned his strict-as-hell uncle. If he did... well then he deserved punishment. Which I will not mention because Alfred's sensitive about the subject.

Alfred couldn't say the hard work didn't pay off.

Because it did.

More than he'd thought it would. You'll see what I mean later.

Minutes later, the small drizzling and pitter-patter of raindrops increased covering every square millimeter. And so did the intensity of the rain. Alfred, drenched, in cold rain shivered as he made his way towards a local pub. He didn't dare wander inside for what if his uncle passed by the street and couldn't find him. His low attention-span and impatience bested him and he decided to go inside for a glass of ale or whatever these Englanders called beer. Man, wouldn't Ludwig wish he were him.

Simultaneously, forgetting he had no money. Alfred ordered a few couple of drinks before the bartender became slightly suspicious at the unreliable American. Though, he didn't approach him in fear of being wronged. Easy mistake. It was only when Alfred mentioned he couldn't pay, that he was kicked out rather brutally. And particularly down in spirits. How odd...

Just his luck, it was still raining! Eventually, he returned to the inside of the bar instead of waiting outside soaking in the rain.

"Hey you!" Shouted the bartender. "Get out!" He pointed his threatening finger at Alfred who turned to see who the bartender was pointing at. "No, YOU. American, get the hell out of my bar!"

"Me?" Alfred pointed to himself at the heart. "I have a name, you know." The bartender marched over to the oblivious American and pushed him out himself. Alfred, once again, met the cool rush of the rain on his forehead and well... everywhere. As soon as the bartender turned his back to him, Alfred reached for the door knob and slowly opened the door in a vexing manner. Hearing the slow creaking door, the bartender closed it again. While Alfred reached for the doorknob yet again... This routine lasted for more than it should have lasted.

"You bloody American!" The bartender shut the door in Alfred's face and locked it. Then, gave out a smug grin as he turned. And before you knew it the locked door was jerked open and blasted a hard bump on the back of the bartender's head as he collapsed and fell unconscious.

"Uh... I think you need a new door..." Alfred mentioned to the fainted man.

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**_(( A/N~ Thank you so much for reading this. It means a lot. The plot is a bit undeveloped but I'm gonna work on it since it's my first. Then it'll be so badass... hopefully. ^.^' Also, I'm probably gonna need a Beta soon. ))_**


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II~ On the way to the Commander & ****Consequences**

_**Disclaimer~ I don't own Hetalia, and I never will. *sobs into her pillow***_

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Eventually, the bystanders, witnesses, and people who just happen to pass by and saw the bartender's head bleeding like a faucet decided to call the police. The whole pub went into a state of panic! Everyone avoided Alfred, so now he was isolated. Deep down, it pained Alfred since he never intended to hurt anyone. He just couldn't...couldn't seem to control his strength.

"Dude! Sorry about that! Do you need an ice-pack or something? You are bleeding a lot. You know what! I'll call for an ambulance!" Alfred whipped out his trusty cell phone before he realized he was in London and didn't know the emergency number here. Other than the usual 9-1-1.

_Oh._

Well, he was screwed, wasn't he. Could you blame him?

He noticed everyone else called for additional help, so he figured he should just wait.

Alfred didn't bother running. He found it cowardly and non-heroic to just hit-and-run. Which was illegal... Not that anyone thought of him as hero now. Back in America, he was considered one of the most acknowledged, bravest, honor-bound men for serving his time in war and protecting the president. Besides, there would be no doubt in his mind that Scotland Yard would find him in less than a minute. I mean... what other lazy, strong, fat American was around to put the blame on?

So, he just sat down and waited on one of the tables. He took out his cell and played Temple Run. But other than that, he was bored as hell. He dozed off to sleep and drooled on the table until a loud siren sounded the city just outside the pub.

And this the police arrived... finally.

Along with an ambulance and almost immediately they grabbed Alfred and handcuffed him back. Dragging him to the police car and treated him like a criminal all the way to the police station. Silence roamed inside the police car as Alfred started to whistle loudly and most of all, annoyingly. A tune that was vaguely familiar and immensely vexing. Oh great, he was whistling the tune, "London Bridge Is Falling Down" now. I wonder just where he got that genius idea.

Alfred acted more like a child, then a man. Although, the officer couldn't argue since he wasn't spitting curses or threats or claiming innocent like the usual criminals. He sat comfortably in the back. Unfortunately, the handcuffed him too tight, so he started fidgeting and moving around. He didn't mind being brought to the police station. Maybe he could find his uncle or call him or something. Although, he shuddered at the thought of his uncle coming to his rescue. The idea sounded ridiculous, and was frightening for Alfred to envision. His uncle wasn't a pleasant person, no. Most likely, he'll give Alfred an hour long speech and reprimand him. All in all, Alfred finally decided to stall for time, the longer he was from someone contacting his uncle, the better. Heh, like he was going to just be handed over to his uncle.

The car ride wasn't as horrendous as Alfred thought. He got a free ride and a tour around London through his own eyes. He didn't complain at first. He was very cooperative... until his stomach growled a low turmoil.

"I'm hungry." At first, the driver pretended not to hear that and ignored Alfred's cries, whines, and pleading annoyance.

"I said, I'm. hungry." He kicked the driver's seat. Ignored, once again.

"Kick the back seat one more time, and I am sending you straight to the commander!" He shouted, glaring at Alfred from the side mirror.

"You're bluffing." He said simply.

"Try me." The officer challenged as he scoffed at him. And that, my friend, caused Alfred to kick the back seat so hard, the officer fell flat on his face on the steering wheel, groaning.

_Beeeeeeep!_

The car alarm sounds.

_**~.Oo0oO.~**_

Alfred had been confined in the Commander's office, handcuffed to chair and alone. He was told to wait but even he didn't listen to that simple order. Alfred scanned his surroundings. The Commander must've been someone of high importance since he kept such a neat office and all his awards lined up on top of a shelf behind probably bullet-proof glass. Alfred was half-tempted to swing his fist towards just to see how strong it was. But he didn't want to have the Commander pop in the room with shattered glass on the floor. Wouldn't that be just troublesome? Eventually, Alfred rose with his chair stuck on his tush and waddled around the room observing everything. No sign of a refrigerator in sight.

_What?_

What type of officer didn't own a refrigerator? Where did he hide the donuts and coffee? Ooh, this Commander is good. The entire time, all Alfred could think about was food. Airplane food... not exactly your gourmet type of food. They hadn't stocked any chips, soda, cake, candy, or anything of the sort! Since it encourages "child obesity". Alfred frowned at the thought. He also frowned at the fact that his shackled were literally peeling the skin off his wrists. Why had they handcuffed him so tight? _Ouch!_ He needed out of these locks immediately! He squirmed in his seat. Then, finally gave up using just brute force. And used _-gasp!-_ his brain.

_'Hmm...how did Houdini do the trick again?'_ He thought before a light-bulb blinked simultaneously above his head. _'AHA!'_ He chimed victoriously in his head as he remembered.

...

Seconds later, Alfred felt the sudden sigh of relief as he was released from the cold steel of those shackles and stood up straight stretching and yawning. Now, just where was the Commander? He became bored entertaining himself. Ooh...Alfred spotted the computer and raced to the desk and sat in the Commander's chair.

...

Yes, yes he actually had the nerve to sit in the Commander's seat with any seconds thoughts recurring. And you wouldn't believe what was the first thing he did. Honestly, I doubt you could guess so I'll just tell you. He checked the history.

Every teenagers worst nightmare. To have your mom check what you've been up to for the last few hours. Except... Alfred wasn't a mom. After checking the history, he resumed to play games on Nickelodeon and play loud heavy metal rock songs. God... If only Grandpa Rome were here! The thing about Grandpa Rome is that he was Italy and Romano's grandfather. Not Alfred's but that didn't stop him from referring to him as his grandpappy. In all reality, Alfred never had a strong relationship with his family. For a long time, it was only he and his sister. Erm... let's not go into details. I'll explain the chaos that is the Jones family later, after the blonde guy who just came in gawking at Alfred leaves.

_Wait a minute..._

_..._

_No._

_..._

_It couldn't be._

_..._

_Yes it was._

_..._

Alfred, momentarily, felt the presence of another before he looked and grinned.

"Hey! What took you so long?"

The Commander, shocked out of his mind, continued to look/glare at the American with those piercing green eyes that demanded he get out of his seat. NOW.

Or else he'd pay the consequences.

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_**((A/N~ Do people actually read this? O.o Thank you~! Arthur's up in his room crying because I'm three chapters in and he hasn't spoken A WORD. Worry not, because he will in the next chapter. Constructional Criticism please? Unless you think it's perfect, which it is obviously not!))**_


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III~ The First Encounter**

_**Disclaimer~ I don't own Hetalia and I never will. Boo hoo... *sniffles***_

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At a distance, it almost seemed like they were having a staring contest. Alfred's bright turquoise eyes full of eagerness and innocence vs. the Commander's brooding, darkly menacing green eyes. Alfred particularly found this superior much more intimidating. Hell, the Brit came in with a scowl on his face before he even glanced at Alfred. Only now did his frown deepened into an expression of unpleasantness. Alfred didn't catch the message and sat in the comfy Commander's seat to his heart's content. The Commander's image seemed to double over Alfred's glasses. Alfred gulped at the harsh look green eyes gave him.

The Commander had short blond hair and lime-green eyes. And above those evil green eyes were the bushiest eyebrows Alfred had ever laid eyes one. He almost had mistaken them for hairy caterpillars at first sight. And that thought alone, disrupted the beautiful ice-cold awkward silence as Alfred face-flat on the desk and hurled into a laughing-coughing fit until his stomach hurt. jerked backwards with a quizzical expression, wondering whether or not this man was truly insane.

Alfred's laughing fit lasted for about... five-minutes on and off. Just when it seemed like he calmed down, Alfred would take yet another look at Arthur and laugh his guts out. Ew... well it felt like that! He didn't dare mention his hairy caterpillars since the Commander didn't seem very pleased at all. Very manly tears started forming on the edges of Alfred's hyperventilating face. He rubbed his right eye as his heartbeat slowly returned to its former state of homeostasis. England wasn't as tedious as he first thought now.

"Are you done laughing like an incompetent imbecile?" He asked gritting his teeth.

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah I think I'm done... uh sir?" Alfred replied not knowing how to refer to his Commander.

"Get. off. of. my. seat." He almost growled, as Alfred obeyed and sat in the chair opposite of the blonde man. The Commander made his way to his desk and sat down on his uncomfortably warm seat. Alfred kept on his now shy grin and he laughed weakly.

"Kirkland. Commander Arthur Kirkland. And you're an American, aren't you? Figures." Arthur scratched the back of his head and heavily sighed. And even Alfred knew what that meant. He had seen his uncle done it millions of times in his presence. He didn't waver definitions, implications or inferences.

It meant a disapproving sigh of disappointment. Alfred had already became a nuisance to the man before him. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I highly doubt you're so important to the point where my officers have to drag my ass out of the conference meeting. Do us all a favor and don't make any more problems than I already have to deal with." Arthur addressed as he waved Alfred off.

As expected, Alfred naturally had to say this next sentence.

"I'm hungry." He said. Arthur looked up unexpectedly wondering if this man was joking. The clueless and innocent look on Alfred's face prompted him to ask the next question.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is there a McDonald's close by? We could-" At the sound of 'we' Arthur, alarmed, addressed a threat...more or less, without looking up to meet those begrudgingly ocean blue eyes. Eyes that seemed as if Alfred had no problems with the world being thrown at him. He wondered how different their lives were. But it's not like he was curious enough to ever find out.

"No, now before I reconsider letting you go free without a penalty, leave." He glared. A few moments of silence later, Alfred decided to carry on a conversation with his stressful friend. Or, at least, Alfred considered him a friend since he did have the generosity to let him go. It was the nicest thing anyone has done to him all day. Though, Arthur had his reasons for not wanting to be bothered with punishing a guy like him.

"So,... Arthur is it? Are you the boss around here?" Alfred asked, smirking, scooting his screeching chair closer to the Commander. It was a painful sound and gesture that Arthur couldn't ignore.

"I'd much prefer it if you just left it as ." Troubled, he added, "And I do not want to associate with a potential criminal." Arthur replied, not looking up, once at the American as he shuffled through his papers. Yet, he could tell Alfred's face fell. Arthur felt the tiniest pinch of guilt but refused to let that take back what he'd just said.

…

…

…

Silence roamed around the office.

"I'm not a criminal." Alfred stated, breaking the ice. At this point, the two were on very, very thin ice.

"Yet. If you continue knocking out bartenders and disrespecting my officers. Is that clear?" Commander Arthur demanded, ignoring the consistent knife named guilt, that was stabbing at his heart. He knew he shouldn't been this cold to someone who just asked a simple question. Unfortunately, Arthur was having a bad day which granted him the right to be cold.

"Crystal." Alfred replied, frowning. "But it's not like your officers were very hospitable either." Arthur nodded in a manner that made it seem as if Alfred had been a waste of his time. Arthur sighed and continued paying attention to the absurd stack of papers on his desk. Unfortunately, there was an a strange atmosphere between the two. Alfred had yet to exit the room. Arthur recognized the aura Alfred was giving off. The one that tempted him to ask what was wrong. However, Arthur's dismissed the temptation and continued ignoring the American before him, hoping he'd leave on his own and realize it was time to get the hell out of the room. Minutes passed as Alfred and his wandering eyes laid upon the Commander's desk full of unorganized papers.

"Need help?" Alfred chimed. Arthur's eye twitched ever so slightly at the offer. He kept hold on his pride confidently and answered.

"No. Leave." He demanded, attempting to gather the sheets into a neat pile, not knowing where it should be categorized. He didn't leave.

_'Damn it...'_ He thought. Arthur was tired from the meeting and frankly, he was tired of life as well. Age 23, and he felt as if life had dulled down tremendously. The same routine, and act every single day. Yet, unlike Alfred, he was content with his job and decided that this would be how he would live his life. The highlight of his day was probably when he finished his work and went home to cook. Which was yet another factor that didn't help his bitterness at all. He lived alone. No, not with his mother like usual single guys who can't get a date to save his own life. Alone. And top it all off, the meeting he had just attended basically criticized his lack of success. Reminding him that there was a better cop in town who'd be fit for the job of Commander.

That "better cop" was no one other than Francis and Arthur absolutely detested his presence. He was the bane of his existence, always trying to surpass Arthur's success. He wouldn't be surprised if less than a month from now, Francis had become the new Commander and Arthur was left in the slums of his utter failure. Francis had a way with smooth-talking everyone else. Sure, why not go and smooth talk his boss while he was at it? Arthur quietly chuckled bitterly as he was able to foresee the future. It was obvious if he hadn't had any success sooner or later, he'd soon have no job. He couldn't believe he was letting a certain frog ruin his career.

He wasn't going to let a certain American sway his concentration any longer. Alfred, disturbingly, scooted his chair over to the front of the Commander's desk and when he was finally there he leaned on the table with both his elbows. Arthur made a fatal mistake to look up and acknowledge him, because he was at a loss of words when he found the American eagerly looking at him and far too close to his face for anyone's liking. He abruptly stood with a look of fright on his face.

"D-do I have to call security?! Don't you have anywhere else to be right now?" He stuttered sounding more weak than threatening. This guy shouldn't be annoying him in his office on a Friday night. Was this a prank or something? He should be out having fun, maybe on date with his girlfriend or something if he had one. Alfred backed away a bit, laughing weakly.

"Um well you see..." He began and Arthur paid an unusual amount of attention to that strand of hair that was askew for some reason before the last few words struck down on him. "I'm lost."

_What?_

_Okay, now that was the last straw._

_You're what?_

Alfred must've caught on to the Commander's questioning expression of disbelief because then he went on an explained the whole entire story of his arrival and possibly his life story as well. He laughed as he explained why he was just as lost as a four-year old in the mall.

"Well if you couldn't tell, I'm not from here. I'm from America, more specifically New York. And after high school, I originally signed up for US Army because I didn't know what else I wanted to do. But eventually this and that happened and I found another profession suited for me. But of course, more of this and that happened and I didn't want to work as a bodyguard anymore so, my uncle-Oh! I forgot to mention him!" Alfred explained hopelessly. Arthur tried to listen but he couldn't catch on to his story and it just confused him. He must've held a face of a dumbstruck idiot. But that didn't stop Alfred. "He lives here in London. He offered me a job, though I don't know what he has in mind because I never asked. You know what! I should've asked. Anyway, this and that happened and before I know it, I departed from my flight and ended up here! Not before having a drink at a local bar, but I can hold my liquor better than most... Hey, why are you looking at me like that? Ohh, do you want to go to a bar now?"

Now, that Alfred was done with that story, the Brit regained his posture as well as his cold demeanor. "No, w-wait, how old are you exactly?"

"Nineteen. Why?" Alfred answered.

"You're nineteen and you claim to be lost?" He couldn't believe it. That and how could he be that young and still taller than him?! He was almost a head taller than the Commander. Another dumbstruck expression must've shown because Alfred defended himself.

"Well it's not like I know where to go?! All he gave me was his address! I would've called him, but I lost his phone number somewhere... I don't know. All my luggage should be at his house by now, along with my car. You have to see it, it's a Ferrari and she's beautiful."

Anymore of this nonsense and Arthur was going to get a migraine.

"Very well, I'm done with my work anyway," Finally realizing he wasn't going to get any work done at all since it was yet another horrendous day at work. "Give me the bloody address." He said, Alfred didn't complain and showed him the address he wrote down on his hand earlier. The annoyed Brit tried to make out the words and it took no less than five minutes to find out what the fainted smudged words said. He thought that Alfred was just an irresponsible teen, so he wondered if his story was true at all.

"Hey, are you going to drive me home then?" Alfred took that as an insult.

"Of course I am! Why else would I ask for the address!?" In truth, he would've let any of his other officers be bothered by him. But that would only hurt his reputation to find out that he wasn't doing his job right. The fact he let him go to not be bothered with is proof enough. Besides they would probably complain about it and send the young lad to him the next day for some other accident or something. Alfred couldn't help but grin. Arthur couldn't wait for this terrible day to end. Though, he didn't realize it was just the beginning. He hoped he would never again have to resort to dropping off American teens to their house because they were "lost". _How childish._

Arthur grabbed his coat and his key as he passed the younger man and proceeded to open the door. "Now, before I drop you off at your Uncles. I don't want to see you in my office ever again. Is that clear?" Alfred followed along behind him before exiting out the door, nodding. "And just to be safe, I don't suggest you go to any local pubs either. Especially, not the last one, the bar owner is already filing a restraining order against you,...uh..." Arthur paused in his tracks.

"That reminds me, I didn't quite catch it last time. What is your name?"

"Thanks!" Alfred blurted out, grinning. "Oh and it's Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

* * *

_**(( A/N~ Wow. Longest Chapter I've written so far... I think I deserve a medal or something~! You guys should give me props since I'm lazy as hell. Unfortunately, I'm scared to death now because maybe Alfred's uncle might appear in the near future and that is never a good sign. Also Constructive Criticism is encouraged as always. Well, Arrivederci~))**_


	4. Chapter IV

_**Chapter IV~ And the Game Begins**_

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

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Arthur told Alfred if he dared criticize his car, he'd think twice about driving him home. Why, you ask? Because Arthur's car was as old as Queen Victoria the deceased. It was almost laughable. And Alfred couldn't suppress all the giggles and chuckles he had within him. _'The bloody bastard...'_ Arthur thought, nauseously. He was getting a major migraine. He found most Americans immensely annoying. This one was no exception. The worst part of it all I that Alfred even dared to try and make a conversation to get to know Arthur. He would ask stupid, pointless, utterly humiliating questions to Arthur and England in general. Like:

_"Hey Commander, is that Big Ben?"_

_"Hey Commander, why isn't London Bridge falling down?"_

_"Hey Commander, can we visit the president now?"_

_"Hey Commander, can I call you 'Arty'?_

_"Hey Arty, can we stop by McDonald's?"_

_"Hey Arty, are you married?"_

And that was Arthur's boiling point. Slowly, he lowered his head, the road out of his sight. He felt the heat get to him from an unknown source. So hot, it was beginning to become hard to breathe. He shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to control and ease his breath.

"Arthur, are you okay?" Alfred asked, lowering his head to meet Arthur's level. And that was like a wake-up call for Arthur, like a sharp needle that punctured a balloon. He couldn't let his guard down for that... that idiot to see. His eyes shot open...painfully.

"Perfect." He grumbled determined to bring this nosy American home. Alfred couldn't help but be suspicious and raised his hand to meet the Brit's forehead. Time stood at a standstill for Arthur and if he could explain it, the picture in black and white.

"Really? Because it feels like you're going to get fever if you don't relax a bit Art-."

Arthur snapped and slapped Alfred's hand away.

"Please refrain from touching me." Frustrated, that he could tell when his own colleagues didn't and when he wouldn't admit it himself. Denying that he felt light-heartened when Alfred showed concern. Alfred went dead silent. Instead of the calm serenity Arthur expected as soon as Alfred would shut up, replaced with an eerie odd awkward atmosphere in its place. It was obvious Alfred had shown concern but that didn't exactly mean Arthur had to be kind in return. All Alfred was, was a delinquent on the run.

Perhaps confronting his uncle would do the boy some good, and hopefully this uncle wouldn't be a wanker and discipline the boy. London didn't need anymore wankers than it already had! According the Alfred, this was his first day in London and he had already gotten arrested within the first few hours in the city. Arthur tried his very best to ignore the youngster, who was and is a troublemaker. Yet, he seemed to talk... a lot. As if Arthur were his best friend. It didn't surprise him that they were carrying on a normal conversation in less than five minutes. Well as normal as normal can get.

"So, what were those papers on your desk all about?" Alfred asked in all innocence. Arthur scoffed, as if the American could understand. "You know! The ones about how twenty-one special force members disappeared on that covert operation and were considered "killed-in-action" for that mission 26 years ago?" Alfred explained. As soon as he revealed the truth, Arthur couldn't believe his ears and slammed his foot on the break.

Pausing abruptly and parking on the side of the road. There was still a downpour of rain that hit the windshield soundly, but at the moment Arthur focus right. How the bloody hell did this wanker know about that? He thought, paranoid by the thought that Alfred will tell just about the rest of the world. There was a reason why this mission stayed a secret for 26 years and he wasn't going to let Alfred reveal all of England what had happened.

"How do you know that?" He demanded harshly, glaring at the American who had stiffened in response.

"H-how I...?" He bit his lip. "Well I sorta went through your cabinet and drawers waiting for you. The papers were right there in plain sight, no lock or anything. It's your fault since you kept your date waiting for two hours." He grinned that charismatic grin which only made Arthur scowl even more.

"D-date?!" Arthur cried, baffled. "Never mind about that! Listen those files were not meant for the public's eye including yours. They were highly classified and you can not tell anyone about this. Understood?" He emphasized the last sentence, urgent to inform Alfred of this. If he failed to do so, it was possible for him to be involved in deep trouble. Normally, what Arthur should do is notify the higher authorities, yet Arthur knew what they were capable of. Some men would go so far as to 'take care' of Alfred themselves. Very possible that he be alive one day and gone the next. Just for accidentally knowing this piece of information was dangerous. "Alfred, please promise me you will never tell anyone." He pleaded, knowing his life was in his hands.

Alfred, on the other hand, understood the significance of knowing this information. Yet, he still joked around just to ease up on Arthur's nerves. The guy didn't need more stress, he seemed so close to collapsing. He wondered what life Arthur's been living up until now. He definitely detected a fever coming.

"Okay. I promise..." He replied seriously and solemn as Arthur would have wanted to. He heard a relieved sigh escape the Brit's mouth. "...if you promise to take a day off tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" Arthur said, poker-faced and dumbfounded at the same time. Wondering if Alfred was ever truly sane at all. "Why the bloody hell would I do that?"

"Is that a yes or no? If it's a no, then I could just tell-"

"Yes! It's a yes, you wanker." Wondering about the strange request. Before he could argue against it, he decided he would just lie. He couldn't just "take a day off." How absurd!

"Oh and I'm gonna check up on you!" Alfred chimed, determined and dedicated as he was. Oh so the the annoying, noisy American was not only keen on harassing Arthur to his full capacity but also wanted to harass the poor fellow at his safe haven?

"Ch-check up on me?! What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean!" Arthur cried, looking at the American as if he had gone mad and decided to shave off one of his eyebrows. Rather he would kill him if he tried to do so. Perhaps he was being sarcastic, yes that was the only explanation. He was probably just kidding or joking with him. That is very hard to believe considering he sounded so serious about it.

"Yeah, which means I need your address. What's your-" _Oh no._

"No." He said resolutely and absolute.

"But-"

"I have to go to work! I can't just take a day off!" He yelled with emphasis. Alfred whined and pouted and momentarily sulked for five minutes. Alfred muttered and mumbled angry words under his breath but because it was at first inaudible, he could hear the last few hopeful words.

_"...gonna visit ya then..."_ Then his voice died out. Though he doubt he would go to such extents.

"Put a sock in it, you wanker." His steel grip on the wheel tightened, he didn't want such hopes in vain. Nearing his destination, he let out a grunt and parked in front of the house. To everyone's eyes, it didn't seem like the type of house in this type of neighbor where you'd see the police personally deliver their teen home. It wasn't just a normal house, it was a mansion owned by no doubt a wealthy businessman, surrounded by a garden and a massive gateway. It almost made Arthur question if this truly was the place Alfred was suited for, when his personality differed. "Is this your uncle's place?" He asked.

Alfred took a glance at the large manor and a wave of nostalgia hit him, remembering he had spent countless childhood summers at his uncle's house. And it was, without a doubt, one of the worst summers he had ever experienced. He wasn't ready or very eager to move from the safe haven of Arthur's car to that demon's household. Besides he had already made himself warm and comfortable here. He hummed a displeased scoff, crossed his arms and resolutely sat down. Not planning to move for the next decade or so it seemed.

Arthur noticed his childlike sulking and knew he had to remove the bloody teenager from his car, manually. So, he clicked off both their seatbelts, got out of the car to the other side, and pulled the American out of his car. Unfortunately, he underestimated his own strength and Alfred's weight and determination. And ended up grabbing each other by their collars.

"Get. Out. Now, you twit!" He groaned.

"Not unless you say please!" This only provoked Arthur tenfold and aggravated him to the bone. With all the loud ruckus about, the lights of the houses living room turned on and illuminated the curtain drawn windows. Alfred and Arthur paused their seemingly playful brawl to look over at the man standing now outside the door of the estate.

He was an old man in his early 50's, maybe more with dark, black hair and startling blue eyes. But just with his intimidating gaze and him standing tall and proud made Arthur flinch. Alfred momentarily tightened his grip on Arthur's arm that possibly stopped his blood circulation and he released, loosened up. They quickly made some distance, and Alfred behaved himself. Arthur wondered if they were truly related, with the glances they gave each other, Arthur knew they knew each other.

He felt Alfred's presence slip away out of his reach as he muttered a whispering, "Goodbye." Retreating to a man who was the polar opposite of his nephew. Arthur took a second glance and instantaneously saw a resemblance to Alfred. It was vague, but it was there and he figured he didn't have to explain what discipline meant to the man.

Or rather let the mindlessly ignorant teenager return by his side.

He looked back at Arthur with an expecting optimistic look and grin on his face. But, it was a forced grin and Arthur began worrying for Alfred. The apprehension troubled him and he decided to have a talk with his uncle to sort things out. Walking up to the strict, disheartened man, he addressed the situation. But before he could say a word, Alfred's uncle spoke.

"Thank you for sending my nephew home. I apologize if he had gotten into trouble." Arthur was relieved he had the British dialect in contrast to Alfred, yet slightly frightened by the tone and harshness of his voice. Although, he remained formal and proper. And just like that Alfred and his uncle disappeared beyond the gates of the mansion.

Leaving Arthur with a sense of unfinished business.

* * *

_**((A/N~ I'm gonna follow the plot of City Hunter, so if you see a resemblance, Yea it's there XD Also all the events and characters in this story are completely fictional. Constructional Criticism please! Chapter is a bit choppy, I had no time to edit, but I will later. Ciao~!))~Ana**_


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